


AM12 Holidays

by 994527



Category: MotoGP RPF, Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, M/M, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-02-12 02:39:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2092512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/994527/pseuds/994527
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex Marquez is 18 now, for the first time on holiday with his brother.</p><p>This year, he's going to make the most of it.</p><p>And Marc is going to have to deal with it.</p><p>And maybe, just a little, <i>learn</i> from it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wild Side

“Ready?” Marc popped his head round the door and frowned; Alex wasn’t there. “Alex?”

“I’m here.” 

_Bathroom._ Marc turned round and stood outside the door, talking through it. “Ready?”

“Yeah. Almost.” He pulled the door open and grinned, smile fading slightly as he noticed the look on his brother’s face. “What?”

 _Oh dear._ “What are you wearing?”

“The tightest jeans I own. And a vest.”

 _Fucking oh dear._ “The vest is pink.”

“Fuxia revolution. Fuck it, let’s go. AM12 holidays starts _now_.”

 _Well I hope the wardrobe choices get better._ “Right. Ok. Let’s go, then. You bringing your suitcase?”

“Yeah. I’ll meet you at the car.”

Marc nodded and returned to the car, where he waited, and waited some more, before finally looking in the rear view mirror and face palming, turning as his brother opened the rear door to shove his case inside. “Sorry, it’s heavy.”

“I imagine it is.” _What with the elephants you obviously decided you need to bring._ “Is there anything left in your room?”

“Not much.”

“Right…”

“What? I don’t know what’s going to happen, do I?”

“So you packed for the apocalypse.”

Alex rolled his eyes and sat himself down in the passenger seat, slightly huffy. “No. I packed so I can do whatever I want whenever I want for a whole week. And if you don’t like it-“

“That’s not what I’m saying. I just…you’re going to need two pairs of shorts, underwear, maybe 3 vests, and swimming stuff. That’s literally it.”

“What about going out at night?”

“Well…”

“And what about other sports like tennis or windsurfing or whatever?”

“Well-“

“And what about dates? What about drinking games gone wrong, Marc? What about jeans ripped on a tree?”

 _Jeans ripped on a tree. Right._ “What the hell are you planning on doing?!”

“I don’t know! _That’s_ the point.”

“Ok, fine. Sorry. Sorry.” 

“Apology accepted.”

 _Dick._ “Oh I’m so glad.”

“Fuck off!”

“Hey! Lang-“

“We’re off the driveway now, Marc. The rules are gone.”

 _I didn’t realise we were following rules. Oh dear, again._ “Right…” The older rider stole a glance at his brother and almost started to choke, screaming to a stop at the end of their street and causing the car behind to honk. “ALEX MARQUEZ, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”

His younger brother turned and smirked as he blew the smoke out the window. “AM12 holidays. Stop breaking my balls.”


	2. Sticky Sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I beg only forgiveness.
> 
> And this is ALL FICTION SUCH FICTION.
> 
> And a twist at the end leapt out the keyboard and I ran with it... ;)

Day Two/Night One:

“Ok, don’t freak out…” Alex leant against the doorframe of his brother’s room in the villa and lazily wiped his brow on his arm, morning hot but not as hot as his hangover, cringing already and Marc unsure as to whether it was due to that, or to whatever had happened. “But…I have…maybe…done something…bad…well, not…bad…but…” His voice was soft, obviously trying to cure himself slowly. “Ok, yeah…bad.”

 _Oh God._ “Right…”

“Like I said…don’t freak out…” 

“I’m not going to say I’m _not_ going to until I know what happened.”

Alex nodded in acceptance and then dry heaved against the back of his mouth. “Stop yelling. And…” And again. “Go…outside…” He ran off across the hall to the bathroom and slammed the door, leaving Marc stood in his doorway, hands on hips and cringing, not really _ever_ wanting to go outside. _It can’t be that bad. Surely, it can’t be that bad._ It took a few seconds for the reverse sight of his brother to sink in, nail claw marks down his back and one cheek very much free of his errantly pulled-on boxers. _Forget. Please forget that, brain._

He sighed to himself in desperation and affection, looked up at the ceiling and then knocked on the bathroom door. “I’m going to look now. Don’t die in there or anything.”

The remains of a quiet _shhhhhh_ filtered through the door and the older Marquez rolled his eyes and walked down the hall slowly, stopping at the end and blushing slightly as his brain caught up with the image he’d just seen through his brother’s door. _That girl is very, very naked. And hot. But naked. And very asleep._ He took a deep breath and started down the stairs slowly, brain suddenly zooming in on the _bite mark_ on her _inner thigh_ , not really in any way prepared for that nor whatever it was going to be waiting for him ‘outside’. He saw it before he reached the double glass doors leading to the pool, and felt his palm involuntarily hit his face. 

_Oh, fuck._

*

8 hours earlier:

“Pools should have trees in them, man.”

“Like a pond?”

He took another swig and nodded. “Yeah, like a poonnndddd. But also like a pool with a tree in it. No gross things. Just trees.”

“Where it’s hot, pools should just have everything. Like a toilet. And a bar. And a TV. And chairs and stuff.”

“Exactly! Don’t know why people don’t-“ Alex was interrupted in what he was saying as the girl who’d gone to the bathroom reappeared and they ended up smashing each other back into the wall of the bar, hungry for it and 2 minutes of separation having been too much. His partner in conversation didn’t really notice, alcohol content of everyone high, as someone else started another conversation and distracted him. After a couple of minutes, Alex pulled away, panting, and raised his eyebrows, trying to remember her name. _María. María? No. Lucía. No…Sofía. YES. SOFIA._

“You want to come to our villa, Sofía?”

She nodded and smiled at him. “I want to come _in_ your villa.”

“I want that too.” He leant one-armed on the wall, face leaning down to hers, and went for another kiss, checking quickly over her shoulder that they were reasonably covered in the shadows, and then slipped his other hand up her skirt, earning himself a moan and a bitten lip in response, hips straining closer to him, response more than enough to make him go one layer of clothing further and find his fingers _wet_ , leaning his forehead against hers as she squirmed, sheen of sweat mixing with his. “Good?”

“I…” She leant her head back against the wall, breath coming out in short, sharp bursts as Alex’s mouth slid over her neck, fingers exploring and teasing, and nodded. “Good…I…”

He cut her off with another kiss, another look to check, and then noticed Marc appear and disengaged. _Fuck. We will. But not here._ He took his hand back, she clocked his brother and smirked at him, eyebrow raised, surprised he’d literally _pussied out_ , and Alex found himself blushing about it until he got the higher ground back and slowly, slowly licked his fingers, eyes locked on hers, tongue circling, watching her lick her lips in response and smile in pure, unadulterated evil. “I _really_ want to come to your villa.”

“I’ll tell him we’re going. _Now._ And then I’ll do that again.” He leant down and pressed his lips against her ear. “ _But with my tongue._ ”

*

“Your face…” 

She propped her head up and looked down to get eye contact, muscles too relaxed in the afterglow for it to be smooth. 

“…is _shiny._ ”

Alex grinned and licked his lips, crawling back up her on the bed. “Well, your face was…creamy.”

“It was.”

“And now…” He smiled into the kiss as he felt her tasting herself on his tongue, wondering briefly how he’d feel about that the other way round, and then felt himself pulled against her, legs wrapping round his waist and teeth nipping at his lip. 

“Now, be quiet.”

“I’d rather you screamed.”

“That depends on you…”

He traced his finger down her chest and over her stomach, slowly, finally ending how it had all started and feeling the tremor of pleasure fire through her. _It does, I guess._ “I’ll do my best.” He gritted his teeth in that glorious half-way between pain and pleasure as he pushed inside her and felt her nails gouge down his back, mouth soon distracted again, taste of blood swirling on their tongues, moving together, Alex concentrating on every reaction, how each movement he made either got a soft moan or a low, desperate growl, and feeling his skin shiver as he heard the _noise_ when his hand gently returned to where it had been, everything in rhythm, Sofia completely unraveling, eyes closed and panting. _I'll do my best._

*

8 hours later:

Everyone has put plastic furniture in the pool at some point, that much was fair to say. The problem in this case was that it wasn’t all plastic. Marc’s mind briefly wandered over how they’d ignored it when they’d got back before realising that he had been reasonably drunk as well, although not drunk even to even register on the _AM12 holidays_ scale. _Drunk enough to not notice THIS._

Two potted palm trees were in the water, one at each end. The plastic pool furniture was in there, of course, along with a whole _sofa_ , and not the 2 seater, the _3 seater_ , which had sunk and was on the bottom, submerged, set up in front of what had once been a TV table and 30inch flatscreen TV. Once, that was, before it was put into a pool. _I am not paying for this._

Floating on the surface, along with the plastic chairs, were a few magazines which had been on said TV table when it had been on dry land, some empty beer bottles and, Marc peered in to see, recoiling immediately when his fear was confirmed, a _used_ condom.

_THE WHOLE POOL NEEDS CLEANING AND IT NEEDS CLEANING NOW._

He was about to start to laugh, or cry, or just spontaneously combust, when there was a groan from just around the corner. He followed the sound round before coming face to face with the perpetrator, just waking up on the one remaining plastic chair, and freezing in abject shock.

“Ciao.” He grinned, eyes twinkling despite the grogginess, overcooking the attempted sitting-up and wobbling himself and the chair onto the floor before finding his feet and lighting a cigarette. “ _Cazzo!_ ”

 _Oh My God._ “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”


	3. Lick and a Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be in hiding. 
> 
> Please let me know... ;) :/ ♥
> 
> Title: Aerosmith

Night 3

“Oh my _FUCK_.” Alex felt his legs tremble and accidentally whacked his head a bit too hard on the wall of the cubicle as his cock disappeared back into the mouth that he wasn’t really focusing on too much, and the face attached to it, too distracted by the wet heat and hollowed cheeks and what they were doing to him, fingers tangled in the short, dark hair. “FUCK.”

The vibration of a response hummed against his skin and sent his legs trembling again, teeth grazing as the head moved back, everything too much, the music in the background, the bass making everything hum, the hot, sticky air that seemed to smother them both, clothes stuck down, muscles glistening, breath burning. “ _Close._ ”

“Let go, come on.” 

Alex felt his eyes roll back in his head as the heat was gone, the words appeared, male voice reminding him, and then suddenly he was swallowed again, feeling the pressure building and legs trembling, lost to it, too lost to really think about the fingernails digging into his hips, then moving further round, pulling his cheeks apart, finger going further, the sensation so alien but sending a shiver of horribly incredible pleasure straight through him. _Woah…_ He felt his hips buck, hands pulling his head as close as he could, desperation taking over, and was vaguely aware of the much-too-loud noise that groaned out of him as he came down his throat, smashing himself further back into the wall, breath coming out in short, sharp bursts, the figure in front of him swallowing, then looking up with those eyes, trained on his, not the same eyes he remembered from the moment a couple of hours ago when they’d come face to face, blacker and rounder and full of lust, seeming to need the confirmation from Alex that he didn’t currently hate himself. The younger Marquez nodded at him, still panting, and relaxed more as the guy’s lips found their way back onto his neck, everything somehow so strange but so good at the same time. “W…” He gave up on the words as the hand found its way back into his crack, sending a shiver down his spine, eventually relaxing again and running his fingers through his hair, feeling the other man’s erection straining against his jeans, the lips on his neck so soft, the alcohol in his system just enough. “What about you.”

“I don’t know.” The words got lost slightly in Alex’s neck. “Up to you.”

_Up to me._ He let that sink in for a few seconds, still drowning in the afterglow and the lips attacking his skin, and then swallowed. _Well if you don’t try, you don’t know._ “Got a condom?”

“Yes.”

“Ok.” Alex nodded into another kiss, mouth to mouth again, tongues swirling, before breaking away and turning round, bare ass exposed, nervous, waiting. “Then ok.”

“Seriously.”

“Seriously.”

“It might hurt.”

“I know.”

“No lube.”

“I know.”

“Sure?”

“ _Yes._ ”

“Ok. God, you’re hot.”

Alex smiled to himself and looked back over his shoulder, slight smirk. “You think so?”

“God, yes.”

“Well you can probably tell this is my first time with a guy.” He turned back around and found himself face to face again with this beautiful creature, who was a guy but somehow that was unimportant, and pressed their lips together again, biting his lip, making him moan, that noise going straight through Alex and back to his groin, cock already starting to twitch again. “And…” Another kiss, breath gone. “And you’re so beautiful, that it doesn’t matter. I want you. I want _you_ please…”

“Ok.”

They pulled apart again, breathless, and Alex turned back to the wall, waiting, shivering, the noise of the belt being unbuckled behind him and the zip going down as the other man’s jeans dropped sending a fizz of delicious, erotic fear down his spine, leaning his forehead against the wall, the coolness refreshing against his skin. A delicate hand slowly moved his legs apart to get better access, music still pounding in the background, making the panting in the here and now seem almost claustrophobic, and Alex bit his lip as a wet finger gently started to push against his hole, body trying to say no whilst his brain tried to relax into saying yes, nothing else in the world now reaching his consciousness except that feeling, stretching him out, another finger, over what felt like hours and hours of alien, painful but exciting torture, until the breath on his neck was back, mouth soon after, sucking against his skin, fingers going deeper now, more confident he was enjoying it, making him writhe against the wall, gasping at the sensation, swearing as _Rafael?_ crooked his finger, hitting the right spot, sending stars shooting across the backs of Alex’s closed eyelids, legs trembling again, erection straining again, hearing himself growl, the pleasure starting to beat the pain. “FUCK!”

“Good? Ok?”

“Hmmm. Hnnng…FUCK.”

“Ok. You feel ready?”

_Ready. Ready for.._ “Yesss. Please. God. PLEASE.”

“Ok. Sure?”

“Fuck me.” Alex actually pounded his fist into the wall, another growl and explosion as the fingers hit that spot again. “ _Please._ ”

“Ok.” The fingers slowly pulled out, condom ripped open, that noise again hitting Alex’s ear with a delicious shock, and Rafael moved his arm around Alex’s waist, palm flat against his stomach, holding him steady and pressing another kiss into his neck as he slowly, gently started to push inside, Alex swearing, twitching in his hands, muscles tensing and conflicted, pain considerable but knowing it was somehow going to be worth it, finding himself start to push back as it eased, wanting more, knowing there was more to be had, then suddenly finding the stars come back as Rafael bottomed out, hitting that spot again, Alex wailing against the wall, trembling, everything too much, biting his lip until he heard the soft chuckle from behind him, the other man’s breath equally rapid and grunting at him but more controlled, another kiss into his neck, before he gradually started to thrust, slowly, gently, Alex starting to relax as it all started to really seem worth it, every time the other man hit that sport making him whimper, hand now palm flat against the wall to hold them up, the other man’s fingers lacing through it as the rhythm sped up, lips almost finding lips as Alex turned his head back, other hand still holding him in, palm against his stomach, guiding them together, the Moto3 rider zoning out to the sounds of them moving in time, maybe a bit messy but well synched enough, muscles tensing as the pressure started to build in his groin again, Rafael slowing again slightly, changing to deep, controlled thrusts, hitting that spot every time, Alex’s eyes rolling back again, noises coming from him louder and louder, wailing through gritted teeth until he managed to choke out the word _close_ , everything speeding up again, hand wrapping around his cock, lips back on his neck, desperation taking over both and ending in a few desperate thrusts, rougher than before, toppling over the edge in sync, Alex wailing desperately, Rafael more growling into the younger man’s neck, feeling the hot liquid shoot over his hand, both going slack and collapsing against the wall, spent and panting. 

“Fuuuuuuck…”

*

“You know you never explained why you’re here.”

“I did. You were drunk.”

“Liar.”

“Hmm..well we were on a boat, and we saw your tweets, so we thought it would be funny to come and find you. Then we met your friends and we got drunk and everyone except me went back to the boat. And I fell asleep in your garden.”

“And the condom in the pool?” The World Champion raised his eyebrows at Vale and waited. “Any idea about that?”

“No.” The Italian took another drag on his cigarette and held up his hands, cheeky grin but more by accident through amusement rather than because he was lying. “Honestly! No, I haven’t.”

“Hmmm. Well I…” Marc trailed off, words lost and eyes wide and fixated across the pool on the gate that led to the path that led to the beach, the Italian pivoting his gaze to see what had distracted him, chuckling as he saw it and leaning forward to stub his cigarette in the ashtray, reasonably unfazed, unlike Marc. “Vale…” Whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Is that my _brother_ with his tongue down a guy’s throat?”

“Yeah...”

“And hands everywhere?”

“Yep.”

“And…GOD.” Marc went red and fixed his eyes back on the Italian’s, desperate to look away and grateful for the distraction. “OH MY GOD. HANDS DOWN TROUSERS.” _FUCKING HELL._ "VALE?! HANDS DOWN _TROUSERS_."

Valentino looked at him, still grinning, pure evil and wickedness, and nodded through a shrug. 

“Hands down trousers. Sounds like fun, no?”


	4. You Ain't The First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is GNR but song is unrelated ;)
> 
> Sorry it takes years, this. But enjoy??? ♥

Normally the way he said it would have been enough, but given what he was saying Marc still leant forward to clarify. “What..?!”

“Sounds…like… _fun._ ” The Italian leant towards him and locked their eyes together, sparkling in the low light, wickedly delicious grin. “Hmm?”

Marc felt his mouth drop open as he tried to successfully take in the tone, slight panic taking over, alcohol making him a bit hazy, cigarette smoke and distant music slowly convincing him this was a dream. _But it’s not a fucking dream._ He felt his eyes flick from lost in Valentino’s to his lips and back, faintest hint of self-satisfied something creeping into the Yamaha rider’s expression. “Wha…”

“Don’t try and act all innocent with me.” Vale grinned at him and wiggled his eyebrows as he took another sip of drink. “I know things.”

_NO._ “B…wh…I…wh…”

_Jejeje I didn’t know anything!_ He kept that to himself and nodded, sage and wise. “So be honest…it’s not the fact it’s a guy, is it? It’s the fact it’s your brother and a guy.”

_Know things. How the fuck do you know things?!_ “Hmm…maybe?”

“Or…definitely…” The Italian leant forward again and locked their eyes together, close enough that his tongue could have reached Marc’s lips if he’d wanted it to. Well, he wanted it to. More like if he dared it to. _Just don’t scare him off._ “Right?”

The younger rider suddenly nodded and shrugged slightly, not embarrassed by it, more puzzled about how he knew, naively not getting the fact that he’d basically just told him, and wondering what was going on. “Right…”

“Right. Me too.”

The simple words sent Marc’s eyebrows through the roof, up until that point the possibility it could have been a game or a joke still valid, those words and the resultant challenge on his face more than crushing that. _Valentino Rossi. Coming on to me._ Alex and his handy friend had finally fully disappeared. _Valentino Rossi. My brother’s doing it. Everyone else is out. Drink…_ He stared at his rival and watched him watch him, expression under serious scrutiny, and then took a deep breath. “Everyone’s been saying I should lighten up. That my head’s too far into the season still and I need a holiday.”

“I agree.”

“Obviously.” Marc finally let his own wicked grin appear, tractor beam of blue eyes impossible to ignore, alcohol coursing through him making him not want to ignore them, and found himself starting to nod, now the possibility had been accepted, feeling a shiver of nervous excitement go down his back. _This is probably a bad idea._ He managed hold onto that thought all the way over to the house and up the stairs, lips smashing together, clothes still on so no one came home and guessed, until the bedroom door was slammed and they were suddenly, somehow, stood in front of each other naked, panting, and staring like they’d been allowed a private viewing of the Mona Lisa. _Wow. Also HOLY SHIT._

“You or me?”

“Don’t care.”

The Italian’s eyes flashed at that response, the possibility already making his cock twitch. “Then I want to fuck _you_.”

Marc nodded and barrelled back into him again, both finally on the bed and wrapped around each other groaning into a kiss, crotches coming into contact for the first time, Marc’s fingers digging into Vale’s ass cheeks and pulling him down, brain still distantly yelling _Warning! Warning! This is Valentino Rossi!_ , but no attention paid to it in the slightest by now. He nipped the Italian’s lip as they rolled over again, him back on top, Marc pinned under him and flushed, eyes dark and burning, chest heaving. “Top drawer.”

_So this wasn’t a hunch or a one time thing, then. You packed for it._ Vale opened it and dropped a condom on the younger rider’s chest, legs almost shaking either side of Marc from the anticipation, leaning down for another kiss with accompanied friction, feeling the younger rider get needier and needier until he broke the kiss and grabbed the packet. “Now. _Please_.”

_Please._ Vale nodded and ripped it open, fascinated by how fascinated Marc was as he put it on, hand grabbing the little tube of lube and covering his fingers, eyes suddenly locked on Marc’s again, silent question, answered with his fingernails digging into his back. _Marc Marquez. Marc Marqeuz with two of my fingers in his ass…well, three of my fingers in his ass, writhing and bucking and panting and growling at me. Begging. Begging for more._ The Italian was still amazed by that as he pulled out his fingers to the sound of a disappointed but knowing whimper from the younger rider, gently starting to push inside and then responding to the growled _don’t be gentle_ that hit his ears, burying himself in one thrust and finding himself eye to eye with Marc again, eyes locked together, foreheads both covered in sweat, another kiss bringing back the taste of copper as the Italian responded to the desperate movement under him and started to thrust, noises spilling from under him making his skin tingle, intensity absolutely incredible, every movement fought back with equal force, kiss returned and growls bitten into his shoulders and neck, bruises that would take a while to fade, rhythm getting steadier and steadier, sounds of skin on skin making them both pant a bit louder, noise from Alex next door the only sound mixing into theirs, Valentino feeling Marc’s desperation grow as he grasped his cock, moving in time with the thrusts, both of them getting louder and louder, the thought of anyone hearing unimportant, just desperately clawing at each other until Vale read the signs and thrust a few more times, more careful, more powerful ,deeper, and finally let himself go as Marc’s muscles clenched and his back arched, head pushed back into the pillow and eyes closed, hot liquid spurting between them, wailing at the ceiling until Vale clamped his hand over his mouth and kept it there until they’d both ridden it out, him following Marc over the edge soon after, both lying there in a heap, panting, trying to get their breath back, reality a haze, the Italian pulling out and nothing more, neither caring about the mess.

_Fuck._ After a minute the older rider lifted his head and found Marc’s eyes with his. “Wow.”

He looked back at him and panted a few more times, cheeks flushed and hair stuck down but almost glowing, before he nodded and collapsed his head back down. “Wowwww.”


	5. Nothin' But A Good Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, break...hope you enjoy?
> 
> Title - Poison 
> 
> Thank you! ♥

_Well this is awkward._ He opens his eyes and tries to stifle the groan. _I have a sore ass and there’s a very attractive guy in my bed._

_“Nah don’t wake him up, don’t even want to know the state of him.”_

_“Bad?”_

_“I don’t know but I know he’s not in there alone, so…”_

_“Ah, same girl?”_

_“No. Not quite…”_

He listens to his brother and whoever else it is that his brain can’t process before feeling the other figure in the bed move slightly and groaning again. _Here we go…_

“Mmmmorning…”

“Hi.”

“Oh _hi._ ” The head pops up and eyes him, slight blush spreading through the cheeks, before he raises his eyebrow and smiles. “I don’t even remember your name…”

“Alex.”

“Hi Alex.” A hand snakes out to find his and shake it, cheeky spark returning and the younger Marquez suddenly feeling the full force of those eyes and stubble and hair. _Wow._ “I’m Rafael. I think we had some fun last night.”

“I think we did…”

“Sounds promising…” He lets himself smile and lean forward, lips now hovering close to Alex’s and a tiny nod letting him know he should close the last gap, both gasping into is as it suddenly lights them up. _Still wow._ The older, he guesses, guy’s hands suddenly exploring again, slightly rough against the bare skin of his back, moving lower and cupping his ass through another groan, fingers teasing his crack in a silent question that Alex answers by wrapping his hand around the other man’s cock and feeling his lip bitten in response.

They stay like that for a few seconds, relaxing back into it, before Alex finds his hand snaking into the bedside cabinet and grabbing a condom and lube, weird how somehow this doesn’t seem so weird and feeling almost like he’s on fire from the deep, dark eyes catching his as they move together, finally nibbling the other’s ear to a low chuckle as the first finger breaches him, burn still winning, until eventually he’s rutting against him and panting as the three fingers stroke that spot and make him groan into another kiss, neck tensing and trying to breathe through the much-harsher-in-the-light-of-day feeling of the blunt pressure pushing inside, before finally he’s bottomed out and they’re paused, face to face now, eyes both flashing open at the same time and locking together before another, deeper kiss as he starts to move, pain subsiding into complete deliciousness as he hits that spot again and feels the tremor go through the Moto3 rider, upping the tempo slowly until there are nail tracks on his back and Alex’s hair is plastered down to his forehead, both losing composure and desperately grabbing at each other through the thrusts, noises getting more and more obscene, until he wraps his fingers around Alex’s cock and tugs him over the edge, stickiness spurting between them and following him over until they’re panting at each other in a heap and he’s pulling out.

“Fuck.”

“Good?”

“Stay the day. I think everyone left.”

“Seriously?”

“Just sex. Holiday sex.”

“I know, same.”

“Good. And yeah, fucking stay the day.” The Moto3 rider grins at him and pulls him into another kiss, hand tangling in that glorious hair again and tugging a bit harder than could be strictly _nice_. “Stay the day and let’s just keep doing this.”

“Jeje. Well…not likely to refuse that offer am I?”

“Well, I don’t know.”

“Oh, _I think you do._ ”

“Jeje. Ok then. Coffee?”

“Will you make it naked?”

“Everyone left so yeah, if you’re naked I’m naked.”

“Sounds like a great deal to me.” He gets up, headed for the bathroom and cleaning up, dropping the condom in the bin and checking his hair in the mirror, before he’s leaning on the door frame staring back into the room. _Wow._

“On second thoughts maybe just you should be naked.”

“That wasn’t the deal.”

“I know, but look at you…” He grins and bites his lip, eyes tracing over toned torso and caramel skin occasionally covered in a tattoo or 4. “I mean, _fuck._ ”

“Thanks.” _That grin._ “Same to you, come on. Out the bed.”

“Fine…” He does, blushing slightly, and then blushes again at the wolfwhistle before flipping him off and grabbing him into a kiss. “Coffee. But we’re taking boxer shorts downstairs in case we get caught.”

“Fair deal, again.”

“Good.” He kisses down his neck and feels himself shiver at the stubble. _I’m so bisexual I might be gay. Or maybe you’re criminally attractive._ “Vamos…”

*

“Dessert…”

“Dessert after breakfast?”

“Yes. Dessert after breakfast.”

“What do you fancy?”

“You.”

“Cheesy.”

“Creamy.”

“You’re terrible.”

“Come here and let me show you how terrible.”

“Rafael…”

“Yes?”

“They’re going to be back soon, I think-“

“Better be quick then.” The older man snaps his finger in the waistband of his boxers and then roughly pushes his hand under the fabric, Alex almost smashing the coffee cup on the kitchen counter as he feels his breath catch.

“Fuck.”

“Bit messy.” The stubble grazes over his neck again as the lips do, before his hands are tangled in his hair and boxers pulled down, mouth swallowing him whole and making a clatter as his hips buck against him and hit the cabinet behind them. 

“Fuck.” He zones out, eyes closing and breath quickening as the tongue teases and wet heat closes around him, before feeling himself blush bright red as it stops and there’s a loud bang from the hallway.

“ARGGH!! ALEX WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”


	6. Doctor Feelgood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title - Crue. [sorry too lazy to paste the umlaut and since it's wrong anyway ;) I'll let myself off.. ♥ ]
> 
> Thanks and hope you enjoy!!!

_God, Earth swallow me whole._ It’s not an appropriate thought for the situation and it leaves him suddenly giggling, turned away from Marc in the hallway but not really having needed to since his brother’s presence is a distant reality replaced by faint _OH MY FUCKING GOD_ ’s echoing back to them. _Sorry you came home and I had my cock in someone’s mouth. Sorry. Oops._

“Oops…”

“Yeah I didn’t hear them coming.”

“Me neither.”

“I think they’ve gone though…?” He grins down and wiggles his eyebrows.

“Oh Alex…”

“Dare you.”

“Are they going to hear _you_ coming?”

“Depends on you I think…”

“Challenge accepted.”

The Moto3 rider looks down, saliva still glistening on the lips in amongst the stubble, and runs his fingers through his hair with a wicked grin. “But then we get out the kitchen.”

“Wh-“

“Bedroom. _Bedroom._ ”

“Oh. Then _ok._ ”

*

 _Fuuuuuuuck._ There is no other word, really, now face down in the sheets and grunting into the fabric as skilled fingers stretch him and tease him, now into what feels like the 90th minute of the match, amazed by his appetite and general stamina for what has turned into a whole day of complete filth with a _guy_. He clenches his fingers into the cotton again and groans as he hits the spot, knowing what’s coming next as the fingers disappear and he feels fingernails dig into his hips, everyone else gone out again, much to the consternation of the, apparently, 4 people who’d seen the show in the kitchen, thankfully one of them not Valentino, and feels his eyes roll back in his head, sore and probably not wise but definitely not to be refused, and steadies himself by grabbing the head board, rhythm starting to increase and the tap tap tap from the wood hitting the wall getting louder. _Fuuuuuuuck._

*

“Hi.”

“Hi…”

“Um…no…Prince Charming?”

“No.” _Fuck off._ “He went.”

“Right.”

“Sorry about-“

“ _I don’t want to talk about it._ ”

“Right…”

“But please tell me you didn’t get anything gross in the kitchen-“

“No! Pff.”

“What?! I walked in on you – my straight brother – with your cock in a guy’s mouth in the kitchen. So don’t act all-“

“Well, no need to worry.” Alex picks up his beer and winks on his way out, hearing the ironic splash as Marc splurts beer onto the floor. “He _swallowed_.”

*

“I think he went out again.” Marc sighs and slumps into the lounger next to the Italian. “Which is fine, except that every time he leaves the house he fucks something.”

“Jejeje. Is that a bad thing?”

“Well…no. But…”

“But…”

“But he’s my little brother! Straight brother. Seriously, this holiday was a bad idea.“

“Why a bad idea?”

“Ok, honestly? When we came home earlier…” He watches Vale’s face throughout the short story, evil twinkle and amused smile growing by the second, before the older man is giggling through a sip of beer and sighing.

“Maybe I understand a bit better…”

“Good!”

“Although I think we’ve all been there…” He watches Marc take that in and go red before smirking across the garden. “No?”

“Hmm, no?”

“Just sex.”

“Well…no…” The younger rider looks down and messes with the hem of his shirt. “I just mean…you know…didn’t get caught…”

“Ah. Ok.” The older rider takes the last sip and throw the bottle in the pool, aware of the dark eyes burning into him from the his right, letting himself smile and sigh. “Are we going to talk about-“

“No.”

“Right, ok.” He looks back at him, smile and raised eyebrows, before starting to get up. “Was a great pleasure, I will see you-“

“You don’t have to leave! Just…”

“No talking.”

“No talking.”

“No talking or no contact?”

“Just no talking.” _Shiiiiittttt._ He bites his lip as the Italian accepts that with a smile and stares down at him, now stood in front of him. 

“I think you spooned me.”

“Fuck off!”

“Jeje bambino, I never knew you were so rude!”

“Pff.” He gives it his best rockstar shrug, nonchalance spoilt by the smirk, and downs the last of his beer before his hands are gripping the arms of the sun lounger and he’s trying to concentrate of breathing as a hand snaps open the top button of his jeans.

“So contact is ok?”

“C-contact is ok…”

“Oh, _good._ ” The Yamaha rider flashes his eyes at him before kneeling over his legs, Marc’s jeans now undone and the older man’s hand delving under the fabric as he leans in for a kiss, the sound that comes from the Repsol Honda rider standing his hair on end, and nips his lip as he feels him kind of give up and lay himself out for him, hips moving towards him to allow him to free him from his jeans, neck exposed to a trail of kisses and soft bruises, before his fingernails carve into the wooden arms of the lounger as the first hint of wet heat reaches his groin, breath scorching and close but not close enough, swearing at the sky as the Italian finally swallows him down and then pulls his head back, slowly, eye contact sending a jolt of pure lust through the Honda rider as his brain seems to suddenly connect Valentino Rossi and the tongue now so skilfully teasing him, a thousand childhood wanks coming into sharp focus as he’s transfixed for a few seconds before it gets too much, he lets himself collapse back fully into the lounger, and dares to tangle a hand in the curls tickling his thighs. _Oh my fucking God._ He doesn’t think he’s going to last as long as he’d like to have thought he would have done, and that’s confirmed as another groan seems to escape his throat and his fingers tighten their grip as he’s pulled along towards the edge much too quickly for there to be any pride involved, feeling it build and build until he’s grunting and writhing, finally letting himself go and coming down his throat with a growl, _‘he swallowed’_ adding a small flash of horror to the afterglow. But then it’s gone again and he’s watching Vale lick his lips and lean back up to let him taste himself, long fingers combing through his hair in a kiss that seems to take them both off guard slightly, more behind it, and relaxes, stoned on the feeling, shifting to allow the slender figure on top of him to end up next him, and stares up at the stars for a while, breathing going back to normal and accepting another silently-offered beer.

“Cheers…”

“Cheers. Feel better?” The Yamaha rider smiles sideways at him, tiny shrug and lip bitten, and clinks their bottles together before they spend a few silent minutes staring at the sky that end as Marc’s fingers trace up his arm and into his hair, pulling him in, ending up in a tangle of limbs that eventually drag themselves over to the pool and into it, hair flattened by the water and kisses gasped out.

_Yes. Cheers._


	7. Eruption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title - Van Halen.
> 
> ♥ here we go...

“Well…” The voice shivers into his ear and down his spine. “I’m up for it if you are..?”

Alex watches them, fairly sure he’s got the gist of the conversation so far and slightly amused by the fact that he hasn’t even been asked, before he’s nodding and finishing his drink, the three of them stumbling along the now-familiar-to-all path back to the house, hands going everywhere, before they’re through the door and half way up the stairs before Alex stops and they barrel into him, staring outside. _Oh my fucking God._ “Wh…”

“What’s up, baby?”

“Marc…”

“Who is-“

 _Yes, point out Valentino Rossi with his tongue down the throat of the current World Champion to 2 strangers._ He coughs to cover it, not pointing it out, and shakes his head through a slurred _never mind_ before they’re in his bedroom, Sofia heading for the en suite and leaving the two of them alone, Alex soon backed up against the wall groaning into a kiss as he’s palmed through his jeans, before they’re pulling each other’s shirts off and walking slowly back to the bed, still connected by the kiss, crashing onto it in a pile and rutting against each other in growing desperation until there’s a soft cough and _oh thanks for waiting for me…_ from behind them.

“Sorry…” The older man slurs the word into Alex’s mouth before half pushing him off and beckoning her over, eyes still on the Moto3 riders’, making enough space between them for her to join and raising his eyebrow questioningly at the stoned expression on the younger man’s face. “Ok?”

Alex nods, lips lowering to her neck, and smiles as he feels her turn to him, hands roaming down his back, and find the kiss with her mouth, groaning at him and the Moto3 rider realising why as he feels Rafael’s hand move between them, in her jeans, reverberation still felt in his. _This is actually happening._ He groans back as her fingertips push under the waistband of his jeans, before there’s a flurry of activity and it seems to suddenly fast forward to the three of them naked, his mouth on Rafael’s leaning over her, before there’s decisions to be made and he feels the by now familiar fingers tracing his crack, nodding into it and pulled back in to Sofia as the other man moves round to behind him and latches his mouth onto his neck as a lubed finger pushes further, making him writhe against her and that friction enough to make them both catch their breath, before time goes into another warp and he’s guiding her down onto him, fingernails digging into her hips to try and focus his mind and not just give up already, her leaning down into another kiss and nipping his lip as his arms go round her and pull her in, not moving yet and moaning into her mouth as he feels the finger trace his crack again and the lubed tip start to push inside _him_ , intensity of both at once making his eyes roll back and breath come out in gasps before he’s bottomed out and she starts to move first, then him, finding a rhythm in time with each other. Alex is just about able to make out Rafael’s lips on her neck and his arms going round her before he pushes her back down into a kiss with the Moto3 rider and tangles his hand in her hair as something to hold onto as the pace increases, that vision too much, hitting Alex’s prostate after a couple of tries and releasing a string of expletives between them as the knock on effect goes through them all, Rafael’s other hand finding it’s way between her legs and Alex left to watch her start to unravel, already well on the way himself, obscene noises the three of them are making seeming to bounce off the walls, feeling the pressure build and build until he’s choking out _close_ into her mouth and feeling her nod at him, both of them increasing the intensity and the sound of skin-on-skin the only thing in the air before his prostate is hit again and the moment collides with her muscles clenching around him as she comes, Rafael’s fingers proving magic for both genders, sending Alex into a convulsing, swearing mess, stars behind his eyes as he wails at the ceiling, feeling indescribable and fairly sure he’s drawn blood from her hips as she collapses on him, panting at each other and both still moved slightly on the bed as the older man thrusts once, twice more, and then makes a similar noise and follows them over the edge, reality suspended for a second, leaning down over them, arms like jelly just about holding himself up, forehead covered in sweat. _Fuck._ He pulls out first, straight over to the bathroom, leaving her to roll off Alex and lie next to him staring at the ceiling, him unable to answer, or breathe, or generally be alive, both panting and swearing, coming down. “Fuck.”

“Mmmmm...”

“How was that in the middle?”

“Fucking incredible.”

“Good.” She turns her head sideways to look at him, finger running over his cheek with a grin, before they both turn and smile lazily at the other man back from the bathroom, all tattoos, stubble and perfect tan, cigarette bobbing as he talks, which Marc will have a fit about because of the deposit, having the exact same effect on both the people gazing at him. _Fucking beautiful._

“I’ll clean up then.” The older man raises his eyebrows, slight smirk and nod, then holds up the damp towel in his other hand and widens his eyes, grin now maniacal. “Who’s first?”


	8. Bad Medecine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title - Bon Jovi. ;)
> 
> Shortish, I'm on a marathon to finish this and complete it at 12 chapters! Hope you enjoy :) and THANK YOU! ♥

“I don’t want to-“

“Alex? Just. Call.”

_Nooooooo._ He takes another look at the face frowning at him, takes another look around the square, and then sighs and nods. “Right…” _You’re going to be completely fine with this, obviously. It’s a completely normal thing for me to have done, half drunk.._

*

“Phone.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“It’s Alex.”

“I guessed.”

The Italian takes a look around the table and then lets his eyes settle back on Marc. “So are you going to answer it?”

The younger rider puts down his spoon, casts him a look, and then snatches the phone off the table before stalking out and throwing the words back over his shoulder. “Yeah, _thanks_. I will.” 

_Ok I think I definitely did something wrong._ The Yamaha rider shares a look with Marc’s friend across the breakfast table and raises his eyebrows in an _I have no idea,_ more than apt for the confusion and hurt coursing through him. _I really don't._

*

“Hello…”

_“Hi…”_

_I don’t like that tone._ “What happened…”

_“Um…”_

_I don’t like how well I know that tone after this holiday._ “Alex, just tell me, ok? You need me to come and pick you up or what?”

_“Um…”_

“Where from?”

_“Um…”_

“Alex…”

_“Um…I'm in Marrakech...”_

Marc feels his shoulders slump and lets a long whoosh of air go towards the floor. _Of course you’re in fucking Africa._ “Right…”

_“But we’re already on the way back to the coast so it’s no problem if you want to pick me up from there instead…”_

“Oh just the _coast_ of Morocco, that’s much more convenient than inland.”

_“Yeah, sorrryy…”_

“I’ll call you back.”

_“Thank you. Love you. By-“_

“Bye.” _Fucking hell._ He considers calling Roser and Julia, at a bit of a loss as to what to do or say other than just dragging him back in a never-before-seen moment of true physical violence, before shaking his head and closing his eyes to take a deep breath. _No, I've got this. I am a grown up. I can go and pick the kids up from Africa just fine._

*

18 hours earlier

“You know you want to…”

“Do I though?”

“Yes! Come on, it’s not that crazy.”

“It’s another country. In Africa.”

“Yeah…”

“I don’t know-“ He loses the word into a kiss, Rafael’s hands wandering down into his back pockets, before groaning and starting to nod, resolving fading as quickly as he feels himself stiffen again. “Ok ok ok Morocco ok…”

“Ok grab your passport because I already booked the flight.”

_Of course you did._ "But first-"

"Yeah, first." The older of the two grins wickedly before shoving his hand down Alex's boxers and grinning at the noise it makes. _First, important business._

*

8 hours earlier

_“Yeah, it’s good. I’m glad I came…haha no, nothing like that…Uccio! Haha…yes maybe…ok yes we did…yeah…good…hahaha yeah I guess you can imagine…he rides like he fucks?! Pff…haha exactly…nah not really….no…yeah another great Rossi victory, eh? …I did tell you I could…”_

Marc listens, Valentino on the phone in the bedroom, and smiles before he lets the words sink in, before feeling his teeth clench and swallowing down the sting as he stalks outside and flops down on a sun lounger. _Oh, I’m just a fucking victory am I. Fuck you._

_And also don’t cry don’t cry._ He takes in a deep breath and lets it go again before nodding to himself. _Don't cry._

*

“Right well today is cancelled.” Marc walks back in to the kitchen and rubs his hands over his face before leaning down on the table top and nodding. “Alex is in Marrakech...”

_And you still won’t even look at me._ The Italian tries to keep making that connection with him again, the one they've got surprisingly good at surprisingly quickly, and feels his eyes widen, information sinking in slower than the attitude. “What..?”

“Not sure when he went, no. On the way back to Tangier now, so…”

_And answering everyone else’s questions and ignoring mine. Ok._ “Marc, did I do something wrong?”

Nothing.

“Marc?”

The younger rider ignores it and shrugs at the other couple of amused and excitable questions. “It’s going to be easier to go and just fetch him I think…he has his passport and about 20 Euros and the guy with him has his passport and 5 Euros. Western union and stuff will probably take longer than just going on a rescue mission.”

“Marc?”

“Plus it’s more fun to go and fetch him than mess around at a bank or whatever. Plus I'm not sure he'll successfully manage to deal with it at the other end.” He does answer this time, word flat and eye contact non-existent, everyone else in the room more than noticing, and shrugs again. “Yes? What.”

_Woah._ “My friend has a boat.”

“That’s nice for you.”

“Ok, did I do something wrong?”

“You probably don’t think so.”

_Ouch._ “Ok…I’m not sure what changed when all I’ve done is sleep but-“

“I’m not talking about this now.” He cuts him off and looks around the other few faces, some wincing, very much including the victim. “Who’s coming to Africa?”

And every head except one shakes.

_Well that backfired._ "Right."


	9. Calling Doctor Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title - Kiss!
> 
> ♥

“Go away, I want to be on my own.” Done with trying to be polite, frustration and anger simmering all day and now boiling thinking how much of a fool he’d been, Marc doesn’t turn to look at him as he appears next to him on the deck of the boat, on the way on Mission: ‘Alex Woke Up in Africa, Fuccckkk’.

 _I really hope I did something spectacularly bad in my sleep, for this to be deserved._ “Ok bambino, what the fuck happened with us? In 8 hours?”

“There’s no 'us'.”

 _Ouch._ The Italian takes in a sharp breath, words stinging more than he expected, and then shrugs and turns back to go inside the cabin, patience mostly evaporated and outside nowhere far enough distance between him and his new worst enemy. “Fine. Well…we’re going to be there in about two hours…”

“I don’t care when we arrive and you didn’t even have to come.”

“You think I’d miss a trip to Africa to pick up a runaway Moto3 rider?” _Fuck it._ He turns back round and takes a step back towards him. “Really?”

“He’s my brother not a random kid retirement plan.”

 _Ouch._ “And I’m not your friend?”

“I don’t know, Valentino. Are you?”

 _What?!_ “Well I’d hope so.” _Full name, never good._

“Yeah I hoped so too. Maybe even a bit more.” The reigning World Champion fiddles with the last cigarette packet nabbed from the kitchen table and lights one before shrugging, checking the distance of this conversation from any prying ears and finally making eye contact, eyes narrowed. “But I guess I should have known _better_.”

“Marc, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I think you know.”

“I don’t think I do.”

“Well then try and think, and fuck off and leave me alone whilst you do it.”

The Italian stands up straight again at that, teeth gritted, and shrugs his way back from whence he came. “Fine. It was a nice few days, I think I’ll get out of your way once we’re back on dry, Spanish land.”

“Sounds great.”

*

“He’s being weird.”

_“What kind of weird?”_

“Mean. Really mean. Like I’ve done something terrible.”

_“Have you?”_

“What?”

_“Done something terrible.”_

“No?!”

 _“I thought I’d better check…”_ The chuckle down the phone from Uccio defrosts the usually grinning Italian enough to manage a thin lipped smile. 

“No I didn’t do anything. We went to sleep, we woke up, he hates me.”

_“Did you kick him in your sleep or something?”_

“No.”

_“How do you know-“_

“Because I did that the night before and he just gave me a Chinese burn and a kiss.”

_“Oh.”_

“Jeje I know.”

_“Where…?”_

“It wasn’t a dirty friction joke, promise. Just on my arm.”

_“Jajajaja. Well…I’ve no idea then.”_

“This is very unhelpful.”

_“Well I’m not there and you’re not giving me much information.”_

“There’s no more information, that’s why I’m so confused. We fucked. We turned off the light. We went to sleep. We woke up. I sucked him off. We got up. He went for breakfast. I called you. He hates me. That’s the whole story.”

_“Was obviously just a really shit blowjob-“_

“Stop joking! I’m serious, that was it.”

_“And you didn’t do anything else?”_

“The only thing I’ve done other than fuck him and sleep is call you!”

_“Well like I said, maybe you’re a bad fuck.”_

“Maybe I’m a bad fuck but he’s not and together certainly we do ok.”

_“I really don’t want details-“_

“I’m not trying to give you details, believe me. I’m trying to remind you what I said-“ _This morning. Oh, shit._ He thinks it through and backtracks through a quick rewind before hanging his head. _I think you may have heard that._ “This morning. Fuck.”

_“Ah, shit. Think he heard?”_

“Maybe. Would explain a lot.”

_“But hearing you talking about him and then deciding he hates you seems a bit extreme..?!”_

“I think…hmm…” _I think I called him a victory._ “I think my half of the conversation sounded a lot worse than the whole thing…”

_“Honestly I can’t remember what you said.”_

“I think it sounded like he was a notch in the bedpost…”

_“Ah, yeah. The victory thing…”_

“The victory thing.”

_“So maybe you’re not a bad fuck…”_

“You didn’t reallllly believe that did you?”

_“Never.”_

“Good.”

_“So…I guess you’re going to try and sort it out…?”_

“Yeah...”

_“Into what?”_

“What?”

_“Is it notches in the bedpost or…?”_

“Or…?”

_“Or do you actually like him?”_

“Everybody likes Marc.”

_“Vale…”_

“Hmm.”

_“Hmm?”_

“Well...I’m really sad.”

_“What?!”_

“Since he started being like this, it seriously fucking hurts. Way more than I expected. Way more than it _should_.”

_“Right…”_

“So I think I’ll talk to you tomorrow, and try and not get thrown overboard trying to tell him that...”

 _“Vale…”_

“I know.”

_“You really-“_

“Yeah, I really."


	10. Sweet Emotion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aerosmith. Two more to go! :) 
> 
> ♥

_I can do this._ He nods at himself in the mirror before letting out some breath and nodding again, aware quite how nervous he is and quite what that means. _Oh dear._

He goes back up, expecting Marc to have gravitated back towards everyone else but finding him sat alone on the floor, cross legged and still smoking, smothered in Alpinestars hoody, looking more and more perplexed as the Italian approaches, until he opens his mouth, seemingly for another _get the fucking hint_ comment, and then stops as Vale sits down next to him.

“Let me say something, please?”

“What.”

_You look so little in that big hoody in the breeze, baby._ “I think you overheard me talking to Uccio.”

“Right.”

“Am I right?”

“Yes. So just-“

“No. Just listen.” He flinches slightly at the expression sent his way, before swallowing and nodding, looking out and away from him again. “A few years ago, I had a very temporary girlfriend who joked about me like that, behind my back. Me and Uccio use that now. In this case very ironically, because I really liked her, and I got her very wrong.” He watches it start to sink in, glance no longer wishing him to jump overboard, and nods, taking a cigarette from the pack and lighting it, brave enough from the first reaction to not ask. “So I said it as a joke, you know. I don’t think of people like that. I think sex without feelings can be a lot of fun, but people aren’t victories or defeats. It’s mutual decisions.” He dares another look back and gets lost for a few seconds in the expression on the younger rider’s face, everything wanting to do something physical – take his hand or put his arm round him or even just kiss him and not able to in public or at least not alone – and holding himself back. “And maybe a little bit of denial.”

“Denial.”

_You spoke to me without knifing me._ “Joking about serious things, you know…”

“Me?”

“Joking about how it’s so casual and there’s no feelings…”

_Fuck._ “Right…”

“So you don’t have to admit to yourself straight away that maybe there are feelings.”

_Double fuck._ “Oh.” He hears the word come out, sounding like it’s coming from 50 miles away, and feels himself flush white hot as it does. _OH._

“Yes. So…I hope I’m not wrong since you seemed to be angry at the opposite…” He waits, no reaction forthcoming, until finally daring to brush their fingers slightly, enough to shock the younger rider back to reality and back to eye contact. “Be honest.”

“Honest.”

“Yeah.”

“Ok.” Another pause, before another slight poke into his side that makes them both start to smile again, and then some more, and then more, until they’re share a laugh and a nod and a little shrug, eyes burning into each other before staring out at the water again and sharing another cigarette, closer together and Marc eventually just huddling closer and taking a cursory glance around before letting his head rest on the Italian’s shoulder. “Honestly…yeah.”

“I don’t know how it would work.”

“Me neither.”

“But it’s more than sex.”

“Yeah…” _Oh my GOD._

“Yeah, same.”

“So…”

“Carry on.”

“Hmm?”

“Well I’m pretty sure you’re about to say sorry, right?” He looks over his sunglasses back at him and then grins as Marc goes a bit red and nods, nervous jajaja and bitten lip.

“Yeah of course…sorry…”

“I think you’d better say it again.” _What the fuck did we just decide._ “Inside. Alone.”

“I think that sounds fine.” The younger rider gets to his feet in equally quick time, both grinning and cigarette thrown overboard, trying not to grab his hand on the way below deck, before they’re locked in the bathroom groaning at each other and trying not to smash everything. _Just fine._ “Fuck, Vale…” He ends up with eye contact with himself in the mirror before his eyes roll back as Valentino’s tongue circles again, and smiles to himself again as he lets his fingers tangle in the curls. _Fuck Vale. Please._

*

_He brought Valentino Rossi to Africa._ Alex stands there, nerves already a bit frayed, and feels everything get 46% more embarassing as the two older guys approach. _To rescue me._ "Hi..."

"Hi." 

"Ciao."

_No._ The younger Marquez looks at the two expressions, his brother trying his best to do the best version of Roser he can manage and Vale looking more mischievously amused, before grinning and shrugging, hoping the face says all he wants and needs it to. "Er...good trip?"


	11. ¿Home Sweet Home?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Penultimate chapter...thank you so much for everything and hope you like it!! Will be finished tonight I think!!

“You know, we don’t have to leave _today_...”

On the way to the boat after dinner, Marc letting himself defrost more and more at the – fair enough- reasonably amusing situation; 3 motorbike Grand Prix racers and a bisexual almost-stranger somewhere in northern Morocco, all slightly hungover. One of them the biggest name in the sport, one on his way to maybe overtaking him one day. Who’ve fucked each other blind. And they’re all there because the baby of the group went sexual experimenting. It’s not something Marc ever expected to be dealing with given the path his life had successfully taken, but then he was still being surprised by Alex as much as the world sometimes was. _Although I think my surprises aren’t quite as positive._ “What?”

“Well…how often do you nip over to Africa?”

“Not very often.”

“And there’s still 2 days of holiday left…”

“In a paid-for and reserved villa hundreds of miles away…”

“You know, I think you can afford it.” The Italian smiles sideways at him and raises his eyebrows. “And if you can’t, I _definitely_ can…”

 _Oh baby I know. I’ve seen your house._ “Not the point though…”

“It’s not.”

“Right…”

“So…why are we running straight back?”

“Er…because we had to run straight here?”

“I’m not sure we ran _straight_ exactly…” Vale grins at the little blush and uses moving out of the way of an incoming stream of locals as an excuse to briefly find Marc’s hand and squeeze it. “But exactly. We don’t need to go back.”

“But…” _But.._ “But…”

“But?”

“But…we’re supposed to go back.”

 _Sometimes you worry me a bit._ “Who says?”

“Well…” The younger rider flusters around for an answer before shrugging and leaning forward in the walk to pull the cigarette packet out of Alex’s back pocket, other two walking ahead of them and half listening in. “That’s the plan.”

“And who made the plan?”

“Me.”

“So who can change the plan?”

“Well…”

“Well?”

“Me…”

“Ok, good. So…?”

“So?”

“You realise you’re 21 and a World Champion , yeah?” _Great, remind myself about that, too._

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m a bit older than you...” _Ancient. Basically Gandalf._ “So I think I’m meant to be calmer. But I’m the one who ended up in your house. And your bed. And left my ‘plan’ because it was more fun. It’s up to you.”

“But we’re in Morocco.”

“We are. And we should be a bit more careful, and I understand it’s probably a bit weird for you given how crazy everyone goes for you in Spain. I know the feeling. But we’ve been walking down the street now for 20 minutes and we’ve been looked at a bit closer maybe…twice?”

“But I said to Emilio and my parents I was in Tarifa.”

“I told my dad I met a nice girl. Sometimes they don’t need to know everything, you know.”

“But…”

“But...”

“Stop it.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You are, and you know you are. This… _this_ is exactly what I was warned about.”

“Warned about?!”

“Yes, warned about!! You and your persuasion!”

“Jeje. Right, well…who warned you?”

“No one..”

“Bad liar.”

“Emilio.”

“Oh.”

“And my family.”

“Right…”

“Dani. In a more positive way.”

“Ok…”

“Santi.”

“Hmm.”

“Jorge.”

“Pff.”

“Tito.”

“Right…”

“Also most people I’ve ever had a conversation with, really.” The younger rider shares a little, amused look with him and ducks out of the way of a slight attempt at physical retaliation, before stopping as it seems to suddenly sink in, Vale stopping with him and calling back to the other two as they keep going.

“Holy shit.”

_Oh dear._

“I can go to Kathmandu.”

 _Not quite what I had in mind, but yes, yes you can._ “Not sure I’d encourage that at this stage in the season…” He grins at Marc’s face, spark of something switched back on again, like the kid who’d turned up in Qatar the year before and done himself proud.

“But I can…”

“You can, yeah. You can do anything. I doubt anything would get you fired, as long as you can ride. Kathmandu may be a bit extreme but the spirit is good.”

“Want to climb Everest.”

 _So this is the way to defeat him. Get him to fuck off mountaineering._ “Sounds great. Off you go.”

Marc gets the tone and smirk immediately and grins, wider and wider until he’s laughing along with the knowing Italian laugh and slightly puzzled Spanish ones joining in. “Hmm…maybe in a few years…”

“Fuck.”

“But nice try.”

“Always.” He winks and takes a quick look around, street more and more deserted as it seems the disembarking of a boat somewhere near is over, before wrapping him in a hug and pressing his lips against his ear. “You can do whatever you want. Remember that. Every single lap, it’s up to you whether you do it or not. And then second you wouldn’t choose to do another, you stop. You understand?”

The older Cerverina nods into his chest, giving him a squeeze and feeling the same in return, before they end up with a bit of eye contact and everything’s just that bit more serious again. “You know you’re right.”

“Always…”

“Ok well not true but I will let you believe that a bit longer.” He grins at him before turning back to the other two, slightly neglected members of the raiding party. “What do you guys think?”

“Well you brought money.” Alex shrugs slightly at the look on his face and nods. “That’s the only thing we were missing, really…”

“Yeah well freedom or not, not bringing your card-“

“Was really stupid yes thanks I know, don’t lecture-“

“Not lecturing, not lecturing. Well…shall we stay, then?”

“Seriously?”

 _I don’t like how surprised you are._ The World Champion turns to Vale and gets every bit of reassurance he needed from the expression on his face. _Yeah, seriously._ “Yes.”

“Wooo-“

“BUT.” Marc smiles at the look on Alex’s face, now, and holds up his phone. “We’re telling Emilio about this _together._ ”

“Ok that’s not f-“

“I came to Morocco to pick you up; following me around feeding me caviar for a year would not be too much to ask.”

Alex scowls, knowing spark of _yeah I know and thank you_ in there somewhere and both enjoying the show of the teenager and rule maker a little too much, before grabbing him into a hug and hoping he’s not overheard in his whisper. “ _It’s not just sex with Vale is it?_ ”

“No.”

The younger brother pulls away, enjoying the red face on Marc, and then turns to Rafael, and then to Valentino, as if comparing, conclusion a shrug and a wink at the guy he’s already been enjoying very much. “Brave.”


	12. Epilogue: Home Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one! :) Thank you, hope you've enjoyed it!!! #AM12 forever ;)
> 
> ♥
> 
> Fluffy...maybe? Title: Aerosmith.

“Vale…” Marc rolls over, afraid he’s going to be gone and relieved to find him not, before running his fingers down the Italian’s arm and watching his eyes flutter open. _God, you’re so beautiful._ “Hey, sorry if you were asleep.”

“Not too asleep.” The Italian smiles and turns over onto his side to face him, slight frown at the look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Just thinking. Can’t sleep.”

“Thinking.”

“About going back to the grid.”

“Ah…”

“I don’t know if it’s going to work.”

*

_More?!_ “Alex you’re pretty red-“

“I know the word.”

“Alex-“

“ _Rafael…_ ” The way he rolls his name around his tongue has the desired effect. “Come on, don’t go _soft_ on me now…”

The older man chuckles slightly to himself before whacking his hand on his ass again, muted reaction as Alex muffles the noise he makes into the duvet, and then runs his fingers over his back. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Same.”

“But it’s got to stop, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, sorry if you-“

“No, no. That’s ok. You have my number…” He whacks him again, loving the juxtaposition between normal conversation and wilting, writhing mess, and lets his eyes wander. _So pretty._ “So if you’re around here again…”

“Morocco…” Another groan. “Or Tarifa?”

“Both. Either. Anywhere south of Malaga, I’ll come.”

*

“Work.”

“Work…I mean…” _Don’t look at me like that._ “As a…relationship?”

“Relationship…”

“I thought that’s-“

“Yes that’s what I meant.”

“Ok.”

_Please don’t._ “Marc?”

“Hmm?”

“Why? Why suddenly-”

_Because, because…because…_ “Because I think it will change everything too much.”

*

_God._ Alex lets himself collapse back into the sheets again, completely spent and covered in a thin layer of sweat he’s reminded of as the other man positively slides off him, and then stares at the ceiling in mute bliss as the fan starts to have an effect and cools them off, contented silence reigning for a few minutes. “I’m really glad I met you, you know.”

“Same!” Rafael smirks over the pillow and lights a cigarette, the winner in the who-can-lose-the-deposit-sooner stakes for a good few days since he’d turned up. “Believe me.”

“Oh, I do.” The Moto3 rider grins and then laughs as a tongue flicks his nipple and then pulls away again. “I just…I don’t know. I think I caught on pretty fast?”

“Definitely a fast learner.”

“I think it’s a course I’m going to keep studying.” He smirks back at him again and they end up face to face over the pillow, closer, before he breathes the smoke back into his own lungs. “And I definitely had a very good first teacher.”

“Well I’ve never had a better student…”

“Oh, _I know._ ” They laugh again, ending up in a kiss that sets things rolling _again_ , before Alex winces slightly as they roll onto his back, ass still sore. “I took the pain.”

“Yes.” Another kiss, maybe a bit more feeling, staring down at him. “You really did.”

*

“Why don’t you say what you want to say.”

_What._ Marc stares back at him, tone kind but very definite, before frowning and letting himself shrug slightly. “What?”

“You don’t think that.”

“I do-“

“No, you think I will change.”

_Oh. Well, yeah-_ “Yeah I think you will.” _Well, I said it._

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

“You know I think I will, too. I think I have.”

“You have?”

“Well it used to be war.” He traces his fingers down Marc’s arm, eyes following the movement and picking out the tiny scars, before looking back at him. “With casualties. Now, it’s war but everybody can smile.”

“Except-“

“Nah ah.” Vale smiles, knowing the two people he’s going to namecheck and somehow finding himself defender of the grumpy-honour, Marc joking but still. “This is what I mean.”

“This…I was only going to joke-“

“I know. To you, it’s always a joke.” He watches the accidentally caused flash of pain appear on Marc’s face before moving in closer to a quick kiss, watching it replaced by confusion. “I mean in a good way. For me, maybe it wasn’t always a joke. And it’s good, until you end up at the other end of the grid and Stoner wins the title at the front of it.”

“Right…”

“And then you realise maybe it actually does nothing. Maybe it just wastes everyone’s energy. Maybe, maybe, maybe. And you’re trying to figure that out, and then this kid turns up who just doesn’t care about that. He’s the true example of keeping it separate, on and off track.”

“You do-“

“Not quite the same as you. You know, I never have nightmares about Casey.” He grins and watches Marc smile in response before nodding and shrugging. “Or any of them. I’m not obsessed or stuck in the past, but I realise now it didn’t really have to be like that.”

“It wasn’t just-“

“No, it wasn’t just me. Like now, it’s not just you. Dani you know he doesn’t care. Jorge doesn’t care so much now he doesn’t have to be defensive. And I, maybe I stopped making him have to be.”

“Really.”

He smiles at the tone and wiggles his eyebrows. “Now, it’s only good teasing. Same with you. He did that to you! In Valencia. A little bit of it is normal, I think. But there’s respect, and we all deserve it.”

_We._ “I guess.”

“And you, you definitely don’t care. And I want to not care, but it’s sometimes a bit harder than I expected.” They share a slight look at the choice of words before the Italian pulls him in and breathes him in. “Marc Marquez, he wins on the track like a small fucking bastard. And Marc Marquez, off the track, he is very different. Maybe it’s time I learnt a bit more from Marc Marquez.”

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t make it seem so normal-“

“It is normal. Maybe you should learn from me that me learning from _you_ is how is has to be. You won’t be on top forever just _because_.”

“I know.”

“And I’m not going to fall out of love with you over a title.” He feels the little rumble of shock, happy shock he hopes, go through him before pressing a kiss into his hair and closing his eyes, feeling Marc hold on a bit tighter. “I will make you cry about it, and I will maybe still sometimes knock you out the way. I will ignore anything except wanting to win. But, I will do that from the green light to the chequered flag only, ok?”

“You really-“

“Yes, I really.”

*

“Seems weird to say bye, now. Want to come home with us and meet the parents?”

“Hmm… not so much.”

“Yeah to be honest me neither.” They share a knowing little look before pulling each other into a hug and squeezing. “Right well…I have your number, maybe I’ll see you again.”

“Maybe you will.”

Alex turns and looks at him again once they’re a few paces away, Marc ready and waiting in the car, before sending him a last smile and getting in to start the journey back, music up in volume before they really talk, Marc sending him a grin and a nod and blasting the windows down, just about heard once he yells over the guitars after a few minutes driving.

_“I forgot to tell you!”_

“Eh?”

_“I have a boyfriend now!”_

Alex grins, and grins some more, seeing it reflected, before grinning out the window and shaking his head in happy disbelief. _Of course you do._

*

Marc: Home :) miss you. 

Vale: Same and same. Where are my kisses?

Marc: Am I allowed to put kisses? :)

Vale: xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Vale: No ;)

Marc: You mean it.

Vale: I do. Goodnight, Bambino. I love you.


End file.
